ever going to change if she kept playing the game. The thought hit her like a bolt of lightning. Enough. She was done. This whole time, she’d told herself that being at the top would mean she could make the company better for the women coming after her. But how could she make the company better for everyone else if she couldn’t stand up for herself?
Brad might be all hot air. She could play the game to get to Natalie, hope to convince his sister that her way was the better way. But she wasn’t putting any of her team on that bus with this creep, male or female. She wasn’t doing it.
Lacey held his gaze as she shoved her champagne glass into his chest, leaving him no choice but to grab it or have it tip down his front. “I’m sorry, there appears to have been some kind of misunderstanding. I’m afraid Langham & Co won’t be a good fit for this book, Mr. O’Donnell. Please let Michelle know we won’t be pitching for it.”
And she picked up her skirt and walked out.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“How’s the restructure going, Victor?” Peter asked as a tailor strode around him, making final nips and tucks to his tails.
“Fine.” Victor pushed his feet along the plush carpet. Being slightly shorter than Peter had its advantages, including not having to have a suit custom-made.
All he’d had to do today was shrug into the rental Emelia had previously selected, proclaim it good enough, and the whole thing was done in a few minutes.
Peter had been standing on a pedestal thing for at least twenty minutes while the staff fussed about his change in measurements since the last fitting. Which was what you got when your client was a rower seven weeks out from the world championships.
It was borderline enjoyable watching his usually frenetic brother having to reign in his impatience. Even more so because the bespoke designer suit was a freebie in exchange for a mention in some exclusive magazine spread Peter and Emelia had sold the rights to.
“You confident you’re going to be okay?”
Victor shrugged. “As confident as anyone can be. I brought in a new client last week, so that’s something.” A small family organic foods chain looking for some advances in food labelling laws, but it was better than nothing.
His phone buzzed on the couch beside him, Mark flashing on the screen. Finally. Victor had left him two messages since his return, trying to keep the iron hot even while Meredith’s Machiavellian machinations moved at glacial speeds.
He grabbed up his phone as he stood. “Mark, hi.” He walked a few steps away from Peter and his entourage. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Hey. Sorry, it’s taken me a few days.”
“No problem at all. I know you guys have a lot on.”
“We do. In fact, things moved forward quite a lot while you were away.”
“I’m happy to hear it. The team is ready to meet with the board and pitch whenever suits.” The team being him and whoever he could happen to rope in. He knew he could impress them, if he could just get in the room, even without the job title they were looking for.
“I’m sorry, Vic. The exec have decided they can’t wait around for Meredith to finish her restructure. They’re going with McMillan.”
The edges of his phone dug into his palm. “Oh. Um. Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate being considered.”
“I’m sorry, buddy. Just bad timing.”
“Of course. Well, you know where to find me if McMillan aren’t up to it.” Hopefully. With his one last hope at landing this major account gone, he was now going to have to be on the hunt for another. Right now, he was little more than an expendable junior lobbyist with a list of small-medium sized clients anyone could handle.
“There’s one other thing.” Mark’s voice dropped, and Victor could almost see his friend looking over his shoulder to check no one else was listening.
“I’m listening.” Victor glanced over his own shoulder to where Peter was standing. Good. Emelia had arrived and captured his brother’s full attention. Peter’s face transformed into something that resembled a Labrador puppy.
Probably not far off his own expression when Lacey had leaned against him. Minus the ginger. It was a good thing he didn’t have her number. The number of times he had wanted to talk to her since he’d left Minnesota was irrational.
“We’ve got the go-ahead to do another limited set of human trials. Very limited.”